Like a Ghost
by Danceswiththetigers
Summary: Post-Reichenbach. Sherlock comes back after three years, and John seems rather calm about all of it... *could either be pre-Johnlock or BrOTP whatever floats your boat. I found the prompt off of tumblr. Not sure if I'm going to continue this... Let me know if I should


Sherlock hated that he was anxious.

He shouldn't be anxious, should he? After all, he was basically coming back from the dead after three years of living abroad. He had no need to, not since Sherlock and gotten rid of Moriarty's men. The consulting detective knew they were all properly disposed of so that he could return safely back to London. Where everyone was waiting for him. Where his John was waiting.

Perhaps that's why he was so anxious. Sherlock knew John would be angry. It was only logical that he was. He even suspected that John would be giving him a black eye and a split lip the second he walked through the door.

So Sherlock was quite confused when he practically ran through the door and gave an over excited,"JOHN!"and the only response he got from the army doctor was an exasperated sigh and a small,"Hello Sherlock."

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Sherlock tried to get the blogger to talk more, but John refused to give in. 'This is what I deserve then,' he thought,'And more.' Sherlock had left his best and only friend without even giving him so much as a clue that he was still alive(well, he had but John hadn't caught on apparently).

So that was how it was the first few days back in 221B. Sherlock would wander around the flat seeing how much had changed-not much surprisingly- and John would give him a few words a day, normally "good mornings"s and "good nights"s. John still had his job at Bart's, so he would be gone most of the day and Sherlock stayed home. Not many knew he was back, not even Lestrade. Before he could announce his presence again, however, he had to get John to talk to him more. Sometimes, it was like Sherlock still wasn't there. Like he was a ghost to his friend. It felt horrible being ignored for so long, especially by John. He had to get him to talk to him again, if not Sherlock was most likely going to go insane.

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Sherlock knew this was stupid. That this plan was idiotic and most likely a for-sure failure, but it was all he had. The only way was to confront John directly.

Sherlock looked around the corner into the kitchen where John stood at the counter making tea. He stayed there watching his friend until the doctor gave him an eye roll and a tired,"What?"  
"Why?"  
"Why what?"  
"Why are you ignoring me?"  
"You sound like a five year-old."  
"Answer the question, John."  
"And if I don't want to?"  
"You'll answer anyways. I know you John, don't be daft."  
He gave an exasperated sigh,"I know you do." There was a whisper that didn't catch Sherlock's ear. "Hmm?"  
"Nothing."  
"John."  
"Just leave me alone," and he began to walk off when Sherlock caught his arm.  
"You never say my name. Why's that?"  
"What?"  
"You never say my name, you rarely acknowledge my presence, and you spend more time away from the flat than normal. Whether that's intentionally or not, is debatable. Most likely intentional. The circles under your eyes suggest lack of sleep, your losing weight, your overworking yourself -mostly for more money for the flat- and from the empty bottle in the trash, your picking up your sister's addiction to alcohol. All of this, seemingly, formed when I was gone. But I'm back now, you should be trying to get better. I'm more than willing to help John if you would _just talk to me_."  
John let out a humorless, dry chuckle,"You do this every time."  
Sherlock looked at him, confused. "Every time what, John. I don't disappear for three years all the time."  
"Does he _always _have to deduce me when I see him." John said, like he was talking to himself.  
"John!"  
"Just go away. You always do in the end. Just go away..." John stared out the window with a far away look in his eyes. Before Sherlock could question him more, he heard their landlady's voice from downstairs.  
"Is everything alright, John?"  
"Yes, . Just talking to myself."  
"I'm right here you know!" Sherlock frowned when he went unnoticed by his friend.

He, however,didn't go unnoticed by .

They heard the quick footsteps(well, as quick as an old woman with a hip problem could go) climb up the stairs until she reached the door when let out an extremely surprised yelp and covered her mouth with her hand. John looked at her in alarm and asked gently," ? What's wrong?"  
"Sherlock? Is that really you dearie?"  
There was an intense silence as Sherlock nodded and John's face went pale.  
A few more moments passed before John spoke, and even then it was a quiet whisper.

_"You mean... You see him too?"_


End file.
